


No Win Situation

by BatBoyBlog



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics)
Genre: Close call, Combat, Fighting, Gen, Swords, justice league - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-09
Updated: 2018-12-09
Packaged: 2019-09-15 01:19:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16923897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BatBoyBlog/pseuds/BatBoyBlog
Summary: Tim Drake is put in a no win situation to save Damian





	1. No Win Situation

Tim Drake, the Red Robin, rubbed the side of his head, ‘God, I’ve been tracking this shipment all night’.

He checked the homing beacon again. He’d slipped a tracker onto a crate of weapons in the harbor nearly five hours ago. Since then, the trucks had taken tracks all over the city to shake any tail. How he was gonna bust whoever was bringing in military grade firearms into the city, and be home in time for school in the morning, he had no idea. Finally, the dot on the map seemed to settle.

‘Warehouse district’, he thought to himself.

Tim briefly considered calling Batman and dumping this on him; some capes didn’t have day lives they needed to get up before noon for, after all. He dismissed that thought. He’d spent too long proving he didn’t need Bruce on missions to hand off something this easy because he had school in the morning.

There were almost no lights at the warehouses, so Tim tapped the side of his mask. There was a click, then a low hum, as the world turned into the green glow of infrared. He slipped in through a upper window, dropping to the floor without a sound. In the dull green glow, he started counting boxes; there was so many, far more than he could have imagined.

‘This is enough firepower to overthrow a small country’, Tim thought with disbelief.

He had no idea what any one could or would use that kind of arsenal for in Gotham, but it was surely a bad thing. That’s when he heard the sound, a soft tread, small foot, being quiet but not as quiet as he should be.

‘Oh shit, not him,’ Tim thought as he turned to see a pair of green glowing eyes at about the level of his chest coming out of the darkness.

“Did Father send you after me? Did Grayson? They should know I don’t need a babysitter! And not you,” Damian harshly whispered at Tim.

“Trust me Robin, no one sent me after you, and if I knew you were on the weapons I wouldn’t have come at all.”

“Weapons? What are you talking about Drake, I got a tip about child abductions,” Damian sneered.

There are some things being raised by assassins can’t teach you, some things you can only learn by having it happen to you enough times. That’s why Tim Drake’s blood went cold the second Damian spoke and why a voice in the back of his head screamed ‘trap!’.

It’s also why, when he heard a pop and something rolling on the floor, he squeezed his eyes shut and threw his hands over his face. Even through his eyelids and hands, the flash of light from the flash-bang was blinding. Damian reeled backward, clawing at his eyes. Tim was already halfway to the floor when the cables of the stun-gun connected to Damian’s chest, and he dropped limp. Still seeing spots, Tim rolled, grabbing the wires and ripping them forcefully out of Damian and crawling over to the boy.

“Come on, wake up, Robin!” he said as he slapped the kid’s face. Nothing. He was out cold, and would be for hours.

“I had not expected to meet two of the Detective’s sons tonight Mr. Drake,” a rich, thickly accented voice rolled out of the darkness toward Tim Drake.  
He knew that voice, it carried centuries of death and madness with it, and he knows this is very personal.

“I’ve only come for what’s mine, I would be loathe to cause the Detective more pain tonight than I have to Mr. Drake, leave and let me take what’s mine,” Ra’s Al Ghul said as he emerged out of the darkness.

“No way Ra’s, you can’t have him” Tim said, standing over Damian’s crumpled form.

From all around the sound of guns being cocked, Tim thought over 100 men where in the shadows aiming at him, too many to fight, too many to escape carrying the Kid.

“Mr. Drake, this is my Grandson, flesh of my flesh. You have no claim to him, or right to interfere here,” Ra’s lips twitched into a smile, “and in case you don’t think I notice what you’re doing Mr. Drake, I have very effetely jammed the radios you use to contact the others”

‘Damn it,’ Tim thought, his hand straying to a switch on his belt he’d never used, swore never to use, and hit it.

‘Okay, five minutes, got to keep him busy for 5 minutes… Think, Tim, think!’

“Ra’s, I challenge your right to the boy.”

“On what grounds?”

“You said it yourself, I’m his brother, I stand as representative of his father.”

“If I agree, you have standing to challenge my right. What form would this test take?”

“Trial by combat to the death.”

If there was one thing the League of Assassins respected, it was this. Ra’s couldn’t refuse without losing massive face before all the goons out there in the shadows.

Ra’s smiled thinly, “very well, Mr. Drake. I believe since you challenged me, I get to pick the weapon. The sword, I think.”

With one smooth movement, Ra’s rolled his cape off his shoulders and drew his long curved blade.

‘All according to plan, sword is slow,’ Tim thought as he rolled over to Damian’s unconscious body, lifting him up. ‘Please have brought it please have brought it, YES!’

He drew the katana from the sheath on the boy’s back. Tim held the blade out in front of him in a two handed grip as Ra’s circled lazily, loosely holding his sword in one hand. Sword play had never been his strongest suit, and Ra’s was one of the all time greats. With blinding speed, Ra’s cut in, slashing at Tim’s face.

He blocked it at the last second, and then Ra’s was back out of reach again. Over and over, Ra’s ducked in with amazing speed, and Tim’s arms shook with the strength of the blows.

“This grows tiresome Mr. Drake, it is time to end it, no?” Ra’s smiled and barely seemed to move as his sword lashed out with a mind of its own. Too fast for Tim to block, he felt the bite as it cut his left arm the burning pain and the feeling of blood running down his arm. Ra’s was still playing with him, he could have easily put the sword through his heart.

‘Good, keep playing with your food, 3 minutes…’

“I’ve drawn first blood, Mr. Drake. Give up and I’ll let you live. There’s no dishonor in being outmatched by a master.”

“Dream on, Ra’s. When I said to the death, I meant it. Come on, old man.”

Ra’s face twisted into something nasty for a second. He was proud. His pride made him sloppy, which saved Tim Drake’s life. The sword bit Tim’s right arm, slashed across his chest, and narrowly missed his femoral artery.

Ra’s hand lashed out the pummel of the sword, connecting with Tim’s face. He felt his nose break, blood poring freely from it over his face. He fell backward on top of Damian. Staggering up into a crouch and drawing his cape over the boy, he glared up at the Demon’s Head. Moment of truth, either what he did really worked, or he’d gotten himself killed. Ra’s leveled his sword under Tim’s chin, “it is a shame to give the Detective a dead son on the same night I take his true son, but you left me no choice, now did you?”

“Ra’s you talk too much, and don’t listen enough.”

“What is that sound, Mr. Drake?” Ra’s eyes narrowed as a low roar built up around the warehouse.

“You remember Jason Todd, Ra’s? Of course you do. Well, Bruce wouldn’t let me go out as Robin unless I carried his Justice League SOS beacon. I swore I’d never use it, you know, show him I could handle it. I guess it sends out a signal to every active and reserve member of the League that there’s a man down. It uses every form of communication - magic, Alien tech, everything the League has ever had. I set it off five minutes ago.”

The roof of the warehouse exploded up into the night sky, hovering over head was Superman, Wonder Woman, Martian Manhunter and half of a dozen other heroes. The moment the roof went off, the Assassins opened fire on the Leaguers on high. Tim threw himself on top of Damian, covering every inch of the younger boy with his body, tucking Damian’s head under his own chin. His last, slightly hysterical thought was how mad Damian was going to be when he found out Tim bled nose blood into his hair.

He awake slowly with that warm fuzzy feeling that meant Alfred had gone heavy on the pain killers.

‘Must of scared him, damn, didn’t mean to do that ,’ he though fuzzily. Tim slowly opened his eyes, looking around. Batman and Superman stood nearby.  
‘Oh I am in so much shit’.

“Timothy, you’re awake,” Bruce spoke in the Bat voice. It was not a question and he didn’t wait for an answer.

“Good, we need to talk about a few things from tonight…”

“Bruce I’m not sure now is the best time…”

Batman cut Superman off with a look, “Clark, this is a family matter. Tim, you brought the League into my city without my permission. 12 heroes were in Gotham without me knowing beforehand.“

Tim knew control of this city was Bruce’s most prized position, “I made a choice, the first week I was Robin. You told me, that we don’t leave a man behind, no matter what. We would always do whatever it takes to never bury another one of us again, nothing else matters, but bringing the team home alive. I brought him home.”

“And I’m proud of you. Get some rest, son.”


	2. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> just a cute Epilogue with maybe a little TimKon mixed in

Tim spent most of the day in a drugged sleep, drifting in and out. The first time he came to, he briefly saw a small shadow from the corner of his eye. ‘Damian?’  
The next time he woke up, Damian was standing at the foot of his bed. The Kid was worrying his lip with a look of concentration. Or was it worry? Tim couldn’t tell, and thinking was hard, so he went back to sleep.

He woke up with a small cat trying to force its way under his left hand. Bemused, he lifted his hand slightly and the cat purred happily, settling under his arm. Tim noticed a weight on his feet and looked down to see Titus’ massive head draped over his feet. ‘I hope he doesn’t send Batcow over to snuggle,’ Tim though with a groggy smile. It felt nice and warm, so Tim fell asleep again

It was evening when he finally woke up fully. He felt clearer and not tired now. ‘Alfred must have laid off the pain killers,’ he thought.

Damian was sitting in a chair by the bed with a small metal bowl full of a green paste, “oh good, you’re awake, Drake. As funny as it’d be for you to wake up with green goo on your face, I’d rather you were awake for this.”

“D, what is that stuff and why did you say it’s going on my face?”

“It’s a herb poultice. It should help reduce the swelling so you’re decent for school tomorrow”

Tim let out a low groan as he let Damian to start dabbing the smelly green goop onto his face. “School, damn, I missed a lot… what am I gonna do?”

“I picked up your homework.”

“You mean you had Alfred drive you to pick up my homework?”

Damian stared into Tim’s eyes, not blinking in that unsettling way he had for a long moment before saying, “if it makes you feel better to think, we’ll go with that. Now hold still while I put the bandage over this.”

Tim dutifully held still as Damian put gauze and medical tape over his nose, “I finished your English paper for you.”

“When did you read Moby Dick?”

“When I was five.”

“Of course you did. Well, thank you.”

Damian sat looking at his hands in his lap as they worked at something only he could see.

“Drake…”

“Yeah?”

“Last night…. I should have… you shouldn’t have…”

“Damian, one time I jumped into a car because I thought it was my way out of a tight spot. The Joker was behind the wheel, and before I could react, he gassed me and I woke up tied to the passenger seat with a gag in my mouth and him driving. We all have fallen into traps, me, Dick, Bruce, all of us.”

“Yes, but you got out of that, didn’t you Drake?”

“I did, because I had to, and if you had to, you would have too.”

Damian was silent for a beat, looking at his hands, “Drake…”

He fell silent again and Tim had to smile, “you’re not very good at this are you?”

And for just a second there was some one else in the chair by the bed. Tim didn’t see the trained killer or the superhero, but a stubborn fourth grader. Then it was gone stuffed back under a mask of a smirk that didn’t make it all the way to his eyes.

“I guess I’m not,” then he nearly spat out, “thank you, and I’m sorry… Tim.”

Tim let it hang in the air for a beat, before letting the kid off the hook.

“No problem, little bird,” and the tension between them snapped.

“Tt, the Clone Boy is upstairs, wants to see you.”

Tim blushed furiously, and this time the smirk did reach all the way to Damian’s eyes.

“Oh um Kon’s here? Well I mean you can send him down when you go up. I guess, I mean, if it’s no trouble. It’s like, whatever, it’d be nice to see him. In like, a general way, kinda nice, nothing big or anything…”

Damian rolled his eyes and headed to the stairs. A moment later Conner came floating into the room from the stairway.

“The gremlin said you were awake,” he said, pointing his thumb back over his shoulder in the direction Damian had gone.

“Oh come on, he’s not that bad,” Tim protested. Conner’s eyebrows climbed. Tim laughed, “yeah, I know, coming from me, I’ll tell you later, maybe when I understand it.”

“Okay…. so, what are you going to do tonight?”

“I was planning on going out on patrol,” Tim got out of bed, befor Conner’s hand gently pushed him back into bed.

“Or you could stay in tonight, bird brain,” and Conner lifted the covers and slid in next to him.

“Or I could stay in,” Tim agreed, cuddling against his boyfriend.


End file.
